Lily Jennings made the best of her way out of the
wood across lots to the road. She was not in a par-
ticularly enviable case. Amelia Wheeler was pre-
sumably in her bed, and she saw nothing for it but
to take the difficult way to Amelia's.

Lily tore a great rent in the gingham going up the
cedar-tree, but that was nothing to what followed.
She entered through Amelia's window, her prim
little room, to find herself confronted by Amelia's
mother in a wrapper, and her two grandmothers.
Grandmother Stark had over her arm a beautiful
white embroidered dress. The two old ladies had
entered the room in order to lay the white dress on
a chair and take away Amelia's gingham, and there
was no Amelia. Mrs. Diantha had heard the com-
motion, and had risen, thrown on her wrapper, and
come. Her mother had turned upon her.

"It is all your fault, Diantha," she had declared.

"My fault?" echoed Mrs. Diantha, bewildered.
"Where is Amelia?"

"We don't know," said Grandmother Stark, "but
you have probably driven her away from home by
your cruelty."

"Cruelty?"